


Fireworks

by ewinofthelake



Series: Assassins in Winterfell [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arya is 18, Braavos, Cunnilingus, F/M, Happy New Year!, Jaqen is a worshipper of the Arya-Faced God, The House of Black and White, The Narrow Sea, Vaginal Fingering, special appearance by the Moon of Drogo's life (sort of) and her three flying kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 08:55:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17241281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ewinofthelake/pseuds/ewinofthelake
Summary: Arya Stark of Winterfell is crossing the Narrow Sea to go home.Sequel to "Merry Sevenmas, lovely girl."





	Fireworks

**Author's Note:**

> This happens one week after "Merry Sevenmas, lovely girl." (Yes! It's New Year's Eve! And there are fireworks! Sort of :D) Thoughts in italics. And Arya is 18 in my AU, remember?
> 
> English is not my first language and I have no beta.  
> Arya and Jaqen belong to George R. R. Martin.  
> Photo credit to the owners.

She never imagined it could be like this.

It all started with a kiss, a deep, sensual kiss like the many they shared for the past week on the ship; like their first real kiss, on the deck, under the moonlight, after they left Braavos. _"Jaqen, am I really going home?"_  One hand cupping her cheek, one arm circling her waist, he held her gaze with his big blue eyes, bewitched, drawing nearer and nearer until their vision blurred and his lips covered hers, and this time the warmth didn't leave, this time the warmth intensified. At the touch of his tongue her eyes jerked open, and his heated stare was there again, gleaming with something new, something passionate. And then her eyes closed, because it was too much, and his closed too, and she tasted that tongue, his tongue, _his tongue._

 

 

The moon was shining again tonight, illuminating with its light their small cabin from the window by the side of her bed, and reflecting on his white streak of hair. Under her, the soft featherbed cocooning her. All around her, ginger and cloves and his warmth. He was ghosting his lips over her neck, then sucking at her sensitive skin, languidly tasting her as he inhaled her snowy scent.

Maniacally slow, his hands began to divest her, as he left a trail of wet kisses down to her breasts, licking and suckling and fondling, his fingers running down lightly over her soft skin all the way to her hips, then up again, until she couldn't think straight anymore.

Incoherently, she started to reciprocate, tearing off his shirt, breathing him in, but _"no, precious girl, tonight I want to show you what fire is,"_  he growled as he grasped her wrists, guiding her arms over her head, sliding his hands down, to her sides and her belly, _tonight I want to worship you._

The rest of her clothing gone, his hands on her ankles and his tongue on her body again, trailing up to her knee, and his teeth, _"oh, Gods,"_  nibbling the tender skin of her inner thigh, up, up, until she felt that tongue, that luscious, wicked tongue brushing her sex, parting her lips, and finally, finally dipping inside.

Her whole body flushed. It was... _I don't know what it is..._  It was wet, it was hot, it was soft. He was making love to her with his tongue. She was bursting and she couldn't breath and _"Jaqen, I..."_

Her breath hitched as she felt a finger, a lone finger trailing down across her belly, drawing circles, lower and lower, _maddening,_  tracing her mound, and finally, finally reaching her clit.

This was new, _"oh,"_  this was different, _"OH."_  Different from those lonely nights at the House when she touched herself to try and feel alive again, after the cold, after the beatings, after the bitterness.

He raised his head and locked eyes with her. His finger was circling her, and circling again, and then it got braver, went lower, got inside. Slowly, torturously so, stroking, feeling, opening. And it wasn't enough, and he felt it, he felt her, and then there was another, another thick, deft finger stroking, feeling, opening even more. Careful, caring, loving. And probing, searching, finding.

She cried out his name, wantonly, as her small hands went of their own accord to cup and knead her breasts, _"beautiful, my beautiful Arya,"_  his big blue eyes transfixed, his free hand reaching over, _I need to touch what she is touching,_  and her hand letting his in and then kneading again.

And again, his tongue was on her. He worked his way above her entrance, finding her clit, catching it with his lips, drawing it inside, sucking on it, _unrelenting,_  sucking her deep into his mouth.

She whimpered, her back arching, as her hands flew to his hair, roughly gripped it to keep herself afloat, and she gripped it even tighter when suddenly a thunderous burst shattered the still of the night, _"ah!"_  She groaned, as outside the cabin window came into view giant firebeasts circling the moon in the distance, trails of fire ripping through the darkness.

 _"Jaqen!"_  Fire roared in the sky and fire pooled low in her gut and _"don't stop!"_   _Don't stop or I'll stab you with your damned dagger._

And that tongue, those fingers didn't dare to stop, _not for the world,_  one hand gripping her hip to keep her anchored, to keep her with him, _always._

 

 

The beasts blew fire again, dancing around the moon and lighting up the blackness – fire consuming, fire embracing, fire protecting. And as a kaleidoscope of fire painted the moon, shuddering she exploded, her release getting him drunk, and her voice moaning his name, over and over. _So that's what fire is._

As she thought she had died and resurrected, panting and limp she watched him, his big blue eyes entranced, _"my lovely girl."_  Ginger and cloves and her essence lingered in the air, her fingers still tangled in his hair, her hands pulling him close until his head came to rest between her breasts, his body flush against hers as he listened to her heartbeat and she cradled him until they fell asleep, the moon still reflecting on his white streak of hair.

And the dragons still dancing around their Mother, now peaceful, tranquil, home.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are like fireworks :)
> 
> There might be a third part, and possibly a multichapter modern AU (did I say that out loud? XD), but I really would need a beta; if you're interested, please drop me a comment here or a PM on ffnet. Thank you!


End file.
